


Short End of the Stick

by Mushy_Snugglebites



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dominance, Handcuffs, Kinky Games, Light Bondage, M/M, Object Penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, funishment, is danger kink a thing?, sexy punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 05:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mushy_Snugglebites/pseuds/Mushy_Snugglebites
Summary: Reno has messed up. He deserves to be… punished. With his own mag rod.
Relationships: Reno/Tseng
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52





	Short End of the Stick

Reno stood outside a door. His foot tapped an anxious beat on the floor. His hands were slowly wringing the life out of a rolled-up newspaper. It wasn't just any old door he was staring at. It was the door to the director's office. Tseng's office.

This was dumb. All Reno had to do was go in there and start talking. He was good at that. He'd open his mouth, embellish here and and spin things in his favor there, and walk out before anyone caught up to what he'd actually been saying.

But this was Tseng. His boss. Arguably the most dangerous man in the entire Shinra building, and by some twisted grace, the hottest one too. Like, Firaga levels of hot. Every time Tseng gave him one of those intense stares, Reno's smooth talking went straight out the window. He'd bungle his lines or worse, just blurt out exactly what was on his mind.

Reno jumped as the door opened. Not the one in front of him, but the one at his back. Heart thudding in his throat, he looked over his shoulder to see Rude enter the room and give him a nod in greeting before he sat down at his desk.

Well, that settled it. Reno had to go in before Rude started wondering why he was gaping at Tseng's door like an idiot. He raised a hand, pretending not to notice his trembling fingers, and knocked.

"Come in."

Tseng sat at his desk, pen in hand, three sheets of paper placed in front of him in a precise row. He gave Reno a cursory glance.

"You knocked. This must be serious."

Was that a mocking smile on Tseng's lips? Reno stared at the sinfully elegant curves of that mouth until he realized what he was doing.

Oh, he was so fucked.

Fuck it. Best to just throw it out there, fingers crossed. Clearing his throat, Reno came forward.

"Hey, boss. I… messed up."

Tseng finally raised his head. He noticed the newspaper in Reno's hand and arched an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he said, perfectly calm.

"Yeah." Reno's mouth felt dry. "It's the jewels. The blue ones."

Tseng's eyes lingered on the newspaper.

"Again?"

Reno nodded. His face felt hotter by the minute.

"Hate to say it, but I never saw it coming. It's… it's pretty bad."

Tseng set down his pen. He steepled his fingers and pressed the tips of them against his lips, examining his subordinate in silence.

Reno's fingers drummed unsteadily against the newspaper in his hand. That dark, unrelenting stare never failed to make him squirm—or to make his pants feel tight. Cursing silently, he moved the newspaper in front of him, holding it with both hands to cover his groin.

Drawn by the movement, Tseng's eyes darted down. The silence that followed felt like minutes.

"I can't let this slide," he finally said. "You know that, don't you?"

An undercurrent of something dark and velvety had weaved its way into his voice. Reno swallowed thickly. He knew where this was heading.

"Any chance we could… You know, keep this off the record?"

"You know the price."

Reno nodded quickly and let his hands fall to his sides, revealing what he had tried to hide behind the newspaper. Tseng's eyes rested a few beats too long on the growing bulge beneath Reno's belt buckle.

"Then you know what to do." Tseng gestured to a table by the wall. "Proceed."

The relief made Reno's knees go soft.

"Yessir."

The table was wide and narrow with slim metal legs. A short row of books were lined up on its surface, bookended by a bronze statue of an adamantoise on one side and a lumpy rock on the other. Swallowing his impatience, Reno stacked everything on the floor; tempting as it was to sweep them all down and get it over with in one quick second, he'd only land himself in worse trouble.

Once everything had been displaced in a Tseng-approved manner, Reno dragged the table into the middle of the room. The metal legs made it heavier than it looked, forcing him to put his back into it. Once the long side of the table was parallel with the desk at last, he unfolded his newspaper and spread it out on the floor underneath the table. Finally done, Reno faced his boss, who had returned to his paperwork.

"Good to go, boss."

Tseng raised his head. His eyes traveled from the books to the newspaper, from the newspaper to the table, from the table to the—ah, goddammit.

"The door," Tseng commanded. "Lock it."

Reno hurried to the door, mentally kicking himself for the lapse. How had he missed what should have been the first item on his list? Too flustered, simple as that. This situation was doing his head in.

With a soft click of the lock, his preparations were complete. This was it. Go time. Reno faced his boss again, his heart drumming faster with every beat.

"Your mag rod. On the desk."

Reno's stomach did a funny flip. He wasn't slow in obeying the order, exactly, but as he returned to the desk and brought out his signature weapon, a deep-seated reluctance made itself known. The mean little smile that lurked on Tseng's face wasn't helping.

The rod's weight felt like comfort in Reno's hand, the handle smoothed down over the years into a perfect fit for his fingers. It was an extension of his will and his body, custom-made for him alone. Laying it down on Tseng's polished desk was a struggle. Letting go was even worse. As he withdrew his hand, Reno's every instinct nagged him to snatch the rod back up again. His hand slowed in mid-air. His fingers twitched.

Quick like a striking snake, Tseng reached across the desk and grabbed the mag rod. He caught Reno's gaze too; their eyes remained locked as Tseng extended the first segment and clicked it into place.

Reno's hands were shaking. He hid them behind his back and watched quietly as his boss reached into a drawer, unwrapped a condom, and began rolling it down the mag rod. _His_ mag rod.

"Face the table and drop your pants."

Reno's erection had flagged during the prep work, but Tseng's silken command brought it right back to life. Eager to ditch his pants before they got any tighter, Reno turned around and yanked his belt open. Once he got to the zipper though, his confidence wavered. Was he supposed to make this sexy? _How_, exactly? He could flirt with the best of them, but dropping his pants on command with his back turned and his weapon in the hands of another didn't leave him with a lot of options.

"Quickly, now. We don't have all day."

Reno swallowed hard. With no better plan in mind, he simply let go and let his pants pile up around his ankles. His shirt tails kept his ass covered at first, but as he bent over he felt the fabric slide higher and higher, revealing more and more to Tseng's keen eyes. Reno had a pretty good inkling of what his boss had in mind, so he positioned himself with his chin over the far edge of the table. It was so narrow that the other side of it barely reached his belly button.

"Spread your arms."

Reno did as he was told, letting his hands dangle over the short ends of the table. Tseng chuckled softly.

"What a rare treat it is to see you so obedient."

"Oh, fuck off."

"Where to, exactly? The President's office? I'm sure he'd be intrigued by a detailed report of your failure."

Reno groaned and hung his head over the table's edge. If he didn't watch his mouth, all his efforts would be in vain and he'd have no one to blame for it but himself.

"Just… get on with it."

He had barely finished his sentence when the first cuff snapped closed around his wrist, harsh metal anchoring his hand to the table leg underneath. Startled, Reno jerked; he hadn't heard Tseng get out of his chair, much less get so close. His other hand met the same fate a few moments later, leaving him sprawled over the table with his pants around his ankles and his half-hard dick dangling in the air.

In one swift move, Tseng shoved Reno's jacket and shirt up his back, bunching them around his waist and leaving his bare ass completely exposed. Cool air nipped at Reno's skin. He squirmed and tugged at the cuffs around his wrists as the reality of his situation sank in, until he felt a hand on the small of his back, pushing down firmly. Heeding Tseng's unvoiced command, he settled down. His reward was the quick caress of a thumb across the top of his buttocks.

Reno's mouth felt dry again. His breathing was speeding up, his pulse too. He couldn't help it. No one else had ever been allowed to put him in such a compromised position. No one. Had it been anyone else, Reno wouldn't even have counted it as _compromised_. He would have flipped the table, slid the cuffs off the table legs and used them as fucking brass knuckles.

Not with Tseng, though. Oh, no. Tseng would have him face down on the floor in seconds, bruised and bleeding. Something broken maybe, or popped out of joint, just to make sure he wouldn't try again. Reno had seen him do it to others. He'd gone hard every time.

Reno hissed in a breath through his teeth at the touch of cold metal. His mag rod was slick enough to leave a wet trail on his skin as it pushed in between his cheeks, but the edges of the round disk that capped the tip were hard and unyielding.

It wasn't just what it felt like, though. It was what it could _do_. This was the business end of the rod, capable of delivering tens of thousands of volts with a single press of a button. The knowledge flooded Reno's veins with adrenaline, drawing a lusty moan from his throat as he felt its tip nudge the sensitive entrance of his hole.

"Keep quiet," Tseng ordered, his voice low and smooth as silk. "Unless you want the whole squad to know what kind of price you're willing to pay for your failures."

Reno's breath hitched. Rude was already at his desk. Others may have returned from their lunch break too, getting on with their day on the other side of that flimsy door. Reno kept staring at it as the mag rod pushed up against his asshole, his jaw clamped tight against the noises that were sure to spill out otherwise.

One thing Reno had learned over his years as a Turk, was that his boss was both patient and relentless. Even in a situation like this. _Especially_ in a situation like this. Tseng's hand was solid on Reno's lower back, keeping his hips from wriggling out of place as the pressure on his hole slowly increased.

Reno had guessed how this might play out. He hadn't walked into Tseng's office entirely unprepared, so when the flared tip slipped inside, the soft moan in his throat was one of pleasure. Tseng didn't tell him off again. He had warned Reno once; the consequences were Reno's problem now.

The rod delved deeper, poking and stretching his insides in strange ways. Ohh, this was so _fucked up._ One of the most vulnerable parts of his body breached by a weapon, _his own_goddamn weapon. Reno's hands had tightened into fists, the chains of the cuffs taut as he strained against their unbreakable hold. With the wrong angle, the wrong move, Tseng could turn him into a sobbing mess.

But the angle remained steady, the rod's path sure as Tseng used it to claim his ass.The guy wasn't just patient, he also had more self control than any mortal man should be able to muster.

Thank fuck for that.

That's not to say it was a breeze. The rod went far deeper than his fingers, far deeper than _anything_ should have gone, triggering confused signals in Reno's brain as it invaded his ass. When the rod stopped moving at last, Reno was panting as though he'd just finished a lap around HQ. He'd done it, though. He'd taken it all without so much as a whimper.

The slippery rod spun inside him, obeying a sharp twist of the handle. Reno gasped, rattling his handcuffs against the table legs as he flinched. Such an unnatural sensation had no business feeling as good as it did.

"The power button is right here." Tseng's thumb brushed up against the sensitive ring of muscle that was stretched wide around the handle. "You know what will happen if I push it. It would be fitting punishment, would it not?"

Reno froze. Tseng wouldn't do it. He was sure of it.

…Or was he? Tseng wouldn't risk permanent injury, but he could have lowered the setting to something that would make Reno's body twitch and dance on the table for his amusement. If he had a potion on him, he might push it even farther.

Tseng's thumb was still stroking circles around the mag rod's power button. Reno's cock pulsed rock-hard with every thundering beat of his heart.

"But first, I have something else in mind."

Tseng's touch left his skin. Reno hissed as the rod's weight suddenly increased and shifted inside him in strange ways, no longer supported by Tseng's hold. He should have been relieved, and he _was_ for the most part. Still, some twisted sliver of him was just a tiny bit disappointed.

That train of thought was forgotten when Reno realized Tseng had arrived in front of his face. Reno tried to raise his head, but he caught no more than a glimpse of a white shirt above Tseng's belt buckle. Then Tseng reached for his zipper, and Reno stopped trying. He watched, holding his breath, as his boss unzipped and pulled out an impressive erection. A translucent drop was forming at the slit beneath the swollen tip. Reno instinctively licked his lips.

"You _will_ swallow."

Tseng's husky order jolted through Reno's cock. As his boss stepped within reach, he opened wide.

"If only you were always this eager to please," Tseng murmured.

Before Reno could reply, Tseng thrust forward. Reno grumbled in protest as best he could, but it was just for losing his chance to retort—the mouthful of hot cock was more than compensation.

"You don't have time to talk." Tseng sounded slightly out of breath, even though he was keeping his hips still. "You need my approval. Earn it."

Reno hummed and swirled his tongue across the shaft. His boss remained unnervingly silent as Reno slicked up the cock in his mouth, but he soon felt the man's fingers comb through his hair, starting at his temples and fanning out as they pushed through. The touch was surprisingly gentle, but Reno knew those fingers could tighten their hold and take control at any moment, with no warning whatsoever. The knowledge simmered in his veins, adding more fuel to the fire.

Reno tried to move his mouth up and down, but there was a limit to how far he could bob his head. His soft, wet noises were punctuated by the sound of metal rattling against metal. He kept yanking at his cuffs, instinctively trying to reach for the shaft, either his or Tseng's or both. Frustration smoldered hot in his chest, but strapped down as he was there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. His erection hung achingly neglected while he lavished Tseng's with an abundance of naughty tricks.

Tseng groaned softly. His fingers tightened, pulling at the roots of Reno's hair. Reno braced himself and managed to suck in a deep breath before the cock in his mouth shoved in deeper. Holding his head firmly in place, Tseng settled into a steady rhythm, slowly dragging the head of his cock across Reno's tongue as he pulled out, only to shunt it back in with a snap of his hips—but never deep enough to make him gag. There was that self control again.

The motion was enough to jostle the rod in Reno's ass into a sway, though. The tug and push on his insides felt so foreign, leaving no doubt that what was inside him did not belong. It was so messed up. It was _wrong_. His cock throbbed hot and heavy, swaying too like some perverse mirror image of his misused mag rod.

Tseng picked up his pace, thrusting deeper, his breathing choppier by the second. Reno kept his cheeks hollowed and his tongue pressed flat against the cock in his mouth. There was little else he could do, the way Tseng had his head in a vice, fingers knotted in Reno's hair.

No, wait, there was one more thing he could do. Smiling around Tseng's cock, Reno let out the most wanton, lusty moan he could muster.

With a gasp, Tseng threw his head back and painted Reno's tongue with hot spurts of gooey essence. His hips shuddered to a standstill, but his hold on Reno's head remained firm, reminding Reno of his command. Pinned down with his mouth full of cock, Reno's attempts to swallow were awkward at best, but he was able to coax most of it down his throat.

Exhaling slowly, Tseng took half a step back. His softening cock slipped out past Reno's lips.

"Good. Good."

He ran his fingers through Reno's hair as he let go. Reno closed his eyes, basking in the warmth that spread in the wake of Tseng's fingertips. As his boss moved around the table, out of sight of his face, he let the smile he'd been hiding play on his lips.

"But this isn't over yet."

Tseng grabbed hold of the mag rod and wiped that smile right off him again. Reno could have sworn he had hit the switch too; just the slightest nudge, and his whole lower body lit up with electric heat. He groaned as the rod in his ass picked up a rhythm, quick little strokes that teased more than they satisfied. He rolled his hips, seeking more of that slippery friction, until a firm hand slapped down on his lower back and put a stop to it.

"You're enjoying this," Tseng hissed behind him, somehow both accusation and approval. "Tied up and violated by your own weapon, and you're getting off on it. If I reach around, all it will take is one squeeze and you'll come all over the floor. Isn't that right?"

"Oh fuck," Reno sputtered, because he was pretty sure Tseng was right. His cock felt like it might explode from that velvety voice alone, and if that didn't happen and soon, Reno's head sure as hell would.

"Maybe I should stop," his boss crooned, with a merciless twist of the rod that made Reno see stars. "That would be the real punishment, wouldn't it? I should stop and leave you with your pants around your ankles and your rod deep in your ass, whining and begging for release."

"_Fuck,_" Reno whined, eyes squeezed shut. The blunt head of the mag rod was doing terrible, wonderful things inside him, flashing heat through his body with every swivel and thrust. "B-boss…"

Tseng's fingers, slippery with lube, closed around his aching dick at last. Reno responded with a shaky gasp, which turned into a throaty moan as the fingers squeezed into a tight fist. He didn't come right away as he'd feared, but it was close, real damn close.

"Rufus and I have a meeting soon." Tseng's breath spread moist heat down the side of Reno's neck, his hand pumping hard and fast. "Maybe I'll leave you like this and ask him to meet me here."

Reno's shaking legs nearly buckled from the thought. Some needy, begging sound spilled out of his throat.

Chuckling darkly, Tseng brought his lips to Reno's ear, his voice just a whisper.

"Think _he_ will press that button?"

Reno ground his teeth, desperately trying to choke down his cry as pleasure lit up his senses. His hips jerked helplessly as his release shot out of him in thick glorious bursts, pattering onto the newspaper like rain.

His legs finally gave out. Utterly spent, Reno collapsed onto the table. He was distantly aware of the mag rod sliding out, leaving his body as empty as his brain. The metal around his right wrist clicked open, followed by the gentle rub of a thumb along the welt left by the cuff. A few moments later, his left hand was set free too. The skin around his wrists prickled, but it was nothing compared to the twitching and tingling sensations in his ass.

"Holy shit," he mumbled blearily. "I'm gonna be sitting funny for a week."

Behind him, Tseng chuckled.

Eventually, sprawling on the table became uncomfortable enough to push Reno off it. He took his time getting dressed, pausing every now and then to stretch and flex. When he turned around he found his boss leaning on his desk, watching with half-lidded eyes. Reno smirked.

"Enjoying the view?"

"I am," Tseng admitted. "Most of it, anyway. Don't forget to clean up."

"Oh, come on! Ever heard of pillow talk?"

But Reno knew arguing was pointless. Tseng had his rules. He still had Reno's mag rod, too.

Reno scrunched up the soiled newspaper and tossed it in Tseng's bin. He pushed the table back against the wall and rearranged all the books and papers; all while grumbling under his breath. When he was done and faced his boss, Tseng held up his hand. In his palm rested Reno's mag rod, condom-free and folded up.

"This is the part where I'm supposed to say I hope you've learned your lesson," he said, "but I don't think you have, have you?"

A faint smile graced those elegantly sinful lips. Reno had never been able to resist that sight, no matter how much cause to sulk he might have had.

"Afraid not, boss." He winked as he picked up his rod, fingertips brushing across Tseng's palm in a lingering touch. "Pretty sure it'll take a few more tries before this one sticks."

Tseng's smile grew crooked.

"Duly noted."

He straightened up and went around the desk, heading for his chair. Reno rolled his shoulders a couple of times and flexed his fingers. Being tied down had stiffened him up a little, but it would pass soon enough.

"One more thing," Tseng said as he took a seat. "Let's change the code phrase."

"What for?"

"'Blue jewels'? Really?"

"It's easy to remember." Reno gave a little shrug. "Family jewels, blue balls…"

"And hardly subtle."

"So what?" Reno smirked in sweet revenge. Tseng wasn't the only one allowed to have rules. "It's my code phrase. I can change it to 'sexbot invasion from outer space' if I want."

"Blue jewels it is," Tseng sighed, waving him away.

Reno blew him a kiss and swaggered out of the office, jauntily swinging his mag rod by its strap.


End file.
